Telling the Prince
by Girl On The Rise
Summary: Draco and Hermione had faced a lot through life. But when it came down to it, nothing had been as hard as telling Professor Snape that they were dating.


**Entry for the 'We're in a Relationship' challenge, in the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum.**

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Severus Snape knew what was about to happen before it did. He predicted the explosion, the thick blue fume, the gray tarry substance all over the dungeon floor, the cries and coughs from the surrounding tables.

But mostly, the horrified look on the face of his - though he had never admitted it out loud - best student, Hermione Granger, and the only slightly surprised face of her Potions partner, Draco Malfoy.

Within a trice he had Vanished the mess, but it had done nothing to mute the whispers from the remaining students.

_Did you see that? Hermione messed up! HERMIONE!_

_Gee, at first I thought it had been Neville._

_Maybe Malfoy sabotaged her potion. I wouldn't put it past him._

_But this is the fourth time this is happening! _

"Silence," he said, and the class immediately fell quiet, "Place your vials on the table, and leave."

The noiseless was disrupted by the shuffling feet and busy hands of the teenagers. The fifteen-year-olds walked out of class talking and laughing about the unusual occurrence.

"Not you, Miss Granger," he said sharply, as he noticed the bushy-haired witch try to slip passed him, "I want a word. You too, Mister Malfoy."

The girl stood there, fidgety. She held the expression of a child who had been caught in wrongdoing. Draco stood, a few feet away from her, a casual look on his pointed face. Yet, Snape didn't miss the slight worry lines on his forehead. As soon as the door slammed shut, the noise echoing through the dungeons, he began to speak.

"I do not know what is going on between the two of you, and neither do I want to know, but these incessant, and undoubtedly unnecessary interactions between the both of you are disturbing not only me, but your performance in my class."

"Interactions, sir?" asked Hermione timidly, though it looked like she already knew the answer to her inquiry.

"Do not play dumb, Miss Granger, it doesn't become you. You know very well what I mean. The constant talking and giggling between the two of you, the looks and smiles you exchange. I am no fool, Miss Granger."

"No, sir," she squeaked, flushing. Malfoy remained silent.

"And I have noticed that these explosions occur only when the two of you are seated together. I do not know if it is this new found friendship of yours that is distracting you, but four Potions disasters are four too many. I have decided to now permanently seat you far, _far_ away from each other."

"No!" cried Draco suddenly. He quickly clamped his mouth shut, looking absolutely furious with himself.

"Oh? And why not?"

"I don't want to be paired with those other gits, Professor, surely you understand," he said, smiling weakly as he tried to appeal to the Professor's dislike of the Gryffindors.

"I understand that being exposed to, what you would consider, intellectually inferior company would usually hamper your progress. But seeing that you are seated with the smartest witch in the class, and it is causing you to produce abysmal work, leads me to assume that you are lying to me, Mister Malfoy. Do not _insult_ my intelligence."

Hermione flushed unsure of whether to be flattered or embarrassed, while Draco averted his eyes to the ground, feeling quite foolish.

"You see, Professor," she piped up, "Potions is the only time we get to spend together."

His beady black eyes scanned the two faces.

"Explain."

"We are in different houses, and the few other classes we share consist of more individual work, so -"

"You have misunderstood me," he interrupted, "I would like to know _why _you feel this sudden urge to spend so much time together when, if I recall correctly, in your previous years, your intense enmity had driven you to the point of resorting to muggle dueling."

Her flush deepened, and Draco unconsciously touched his cheek.

"I want an explanation. Do not lie, Mister Malfoy," he said, as the boy opened his mouth to speak, "Or I will be forced to feed you Veritaserum. I will keep you here until you elaborate or concede that you will not sit together again. You are already twenty minutes late for your next class."

Hermione's eyes widened in panic, and she turned to glance at Malfoy. He seemed extremely reluctant to say anything.

"The thing is, sir, we, Hermione and I, have set aside our differences, and have decided to pursue the path of a healthier, and non-violent relationship."

"And, is this relationship purely platonic?"

Malfoy seemed unable to answer, opening his mouth, then immediately shutting it. He looked at Hermione, his eyes pleading for help.

"It was," she said, "And then it, well - And then it wasn't"

Snape looked at then, his eyes seemed to penetrate their minds. Literally. Hermione was well aware that their Potions master was an extremely skilled Legilemens. He knew what she was trying to say, but wanted to hear the words from her mouth.

"I'm afraid your vague explanation will not suffice. Would you prefer a dose of Veritaserum, or would you like to sit here for the rest of the day?"

Hermione wore a pained expression. To her the prospect of missing a day's worth of classes was tantamount to the Cruciatus curse.

"We're dating," she said mechanically, not meeting his eye. The words echoed through the dungeons, yet the reverberations did nothing to dull the strangeness of the sentence.

"Yeah, we're in a relationship," said Draco, raising his chin defiantly, as he mentally prepared himself for whatever verbal hell Snape would unleash upon them.

The greasy haired man took a single look at the couple, before saying, "Very well. Return to your classes."

The two looked stunned.

"No...punishment?" asked Draco, confused, "No berating, no sarcasm? Nothing?"

"I suggest you count your blessings, Mister Malfoy," he said, glaring at the boy for his momentary lack of respect, "And I recall having dismissed you. Leave, that is, unless you want to stay and clean out the storage cupboard?"

They shook their heads, mumbling ''Thank you''s and hurriedly shuffling out of the class, not bothering to hide the surprise in their voices as they chattered away.

He watched them leave, feeling slightly resentful that he had never been able to make it work with a certain red-haired muggleborn. These children, so very different, represented what he could have had.

If Draco messed it up, he would make the boy's life living hell.

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